


The Sticky Situation

by adafrog



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 04:19:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adafrog/pseuds/adafrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title: The Sticky Situation<br/>Fandom: BSG<br/>Spoilers: None<br/>Rating: PG, pretty much G<br/>Word Count: 885<br/>Standard disclaimer applies.<br/>A/N: This is my offering for this week’s challenge. I have a slightly different take on how they’re stuck, and on the peach colored smoke, but I think it all still counts. I hope. lol</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sticky Situation

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2005. I changed the spacing from the 2005 form.

“Lee.” No answer. “Lee.” A little louder. Still no answer. “Lee!” She finally yelled. 

“What Kara? Do you really need to yell?” He asked through the partition.

“Well, you weren’t answering,” she huffed, still working on her flight suit.

“Okay, I’m answering now. What do you want?” He replied, sounding much too frustrated for the situation.

“No need to be cranky. I just needed you to help with....” paused, thinking how silly it sounded. “I need you to help me with my zipper.” Then waited for the inevitable joke. When it didn’t come, she rolled her eyes, and kept working on it.

The shower stall door opened, making her jump slightly. She turned to see Lee, hand on his own zipper, looking somewhat chagrined. “I’m...actually.....having some trouble of my own.” He gave her a winning smile.

“Lee,” she purred, leaning close.

“Yes, Kara.” He cheekily returned, starting to feel worried.

“This.isn’t.funny,” she enunciated, pulling again on the stubborn zipper.

He bit his lips, trying to not smirk. “I know. I know it’s not funny.” He couldn’t help a snort escaping. Then, seeing the look on Kara’s face, he schooled his as best as he could, then dutifully started examining her zipper.   
After a few minutes without success, he threw down his hands in frustration. “Okay, well maybe if we get it wet.”

Kara gave him a suspicious look. “Wet?”

“Yes, wet. If we can wash the goo-”

“Goo?” Kara snorted.

“Don’t interrupt me,” he said, trying to look serious. “If we can wash the...goo...out of the zipper mechanisms, then we should be able to get them to work.” He looked again at the-no other word for it-goo that was caked on, and embedded in the zippers of the flight suits. In fact, it was caked everywhere, except their heads. Reaching up to flick a hand through her hair, he mused, “at least we don’t have to worry about getting this sticky crap out of our hair.”

Kara shuddered with the thought, then, “I can’t believe they did this. Although,” she said, using both hands to mold his hair, “you’d look really cute with a pink mohawk.”

“Very, very funny Kara. Now get under the water.” He turned it on, and pushed her under the stream.

“Lee, this is stupid. It’s just running off-look.” She pointed to the front of her flight suit where, indeed, the goo was stubbornly staying put. Rolling her eyes again, she mused, “who would have thought the cylons would make their raiders sticky?”

“Well, maybe they didn’t want crazy human pilots taking off in them again.” He teased, then frowned. “Maybe some soap.”

“Soap? And water. Taking a shower with my flight suit on. Can’t we just cut them off?” Pulling again at the zipper, she still couldn’t make it budge. “This was kinda funny at first, but the joke is wearing thin.” 

Giving her a sympathetic look, he grabbed the soap, and stepped in with her. Ignoring her raised eyebrows, he grabbed the top of the zipper with one hand, and started rubbing the soap against it. 

“Quit.”

“What?” She asked innocently, shrugging her shoulders.

He looked up at her face, yep, there was the patented Starbuck leer/smirk. He rolled his eyes, and went back to his task. 

After a few minutes he was starting to see some actual metal through the pink goo. “Look, it’s starting to work. Not such a bad idea after all,” he said, sounding proud of himself.

“Uh, Lee.” He continued working at the zipper, conscientiously keeping his hands confined to the zipper only.

“Lee.” Starting to get louder again. Why doesn’t he ever listen? 

“Lee.” Almost exasperated, but starting to giggle.

“See,” he said, moving the zipper down several inches, “working like a charm.” Still oblivious to her giggling. Or maybe he was ignoring it.

Finally, she grabbed his head, and pulled it up to look in his eyes. “Look,” she looked up, a wondrous smile on her face. 

And he did. “What the...” Poking at one of the pinkish bubbles that were starting to fill the stall, he smiled. 

Kara grabbed the soap, vigorously rubbing at his flight suit. “Look, more,” she laughed, watching as bubbles of all sizes formed, and floated off.

Lee looked at her, then at his suit, at the bubbles, then back at her, then started giggling. 

 

Later, they sat at the bottom of the shower stall in wet skivvies, finally free of the gooey flight suits. Still occasionally erupting in fits of giggles, they batted at the now disappearing bubbles. 

Lee held his side, desperately trying not to laugh as Kara started giggling again. Failing, he choked out a moan, then gave a few more chuckles. 

Kara sighed, relaxing more into the floor. “We haven’t done that in ages.” She smiled, looking almost wistfully nostalgic.

He smiled back, then took her hand, squeezing it. “Not sure I want to be stuck in my flight suit again, though.”

She squeezed back. “And definitely don’t want to be covered with,” she paused, winking, “goo, again.”

They were quiet for a minute. “You know, someone’s going to come in here eventually.” 

She nodded absently, still relaxed. “Don’t care.”

“They’re going to wonder what we’re doing.”

She kept nodding, starting to smirk. “I’m not telling.”

He chuckled. “No. Noone’d believe it, anyway.”


End file.
